Impact
by The Reborn Akatsuki
Summary: Grief and loss leave their impact on the sternest of souls, vengeance, retribution and fury become a shroud to wrap themselves within. When there is nothing but hatred, even the smallest kindness bears impact. A short one shot fic featuring Yuuka Ashihana, a OC from Soldier of Zeon. Consider it purely subsidiary material for the primary narrative.
**AN: Well this is something fairly different, with Soldier of Zeon ongoing and it actually reaching the halfway point I have put together this little fic. Be warned it does give vague spoilers for the conclusion of Soldier of Zeon but it is put purposefully vague, so you may get a general idea of what happened at the conclusion of the story(which by this time has not actually been written) but nothing so blatant as that you would be able to put together more then a broad outline of it. That isn't the purpose of this fic, this story is meant to be told about the perspectives of those who await those who go off to war and what they think, believe and do.**

 **Just as Soldier of Zeon is meant to convey the thoughts, and beliefs of a single soldier at war, Impact is meant to convey the thoughts, beliefs of those who do not. Not to mention that Yuuka Ashaina is one of my favorite OC's that I have ever created. From putting together how she'd look, to how she'd speak and act, to how she would think it was always enjoyable and the end result, was a creation that I am quite pleased with. Her story isn't a happy tale, but not many stories within UC are even early UC. To date she has only been featured in a single chapter of Soldier of Zeon, but like other original characters, she will be featured more prominently in future chapters, however this oneshot will only feature her perspective, thoughts and history.**

 **Look it at as subsidiary material to the primary story I suppose, something to broaden the outline a bit on a otherwise vague and uninteresting character. In fact this template is something I plan to use on several characters in the future as Soldier of Zeon nears completion, expect a few differing ones, just to give you a idea of who and what these characters are and what they are about. These will all be _relatively_ short so I can hopefully pump them out fairly quickly if I ever needed to, anyway enough rambling from me, let's get to the story.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam nor any of its associated licenses , nor do I plan to make any profit off of this narrative so don't sue me Bandai.**

* * *

She still remembered the first time she saw him again, she still remembered the relief that had flooded her at the sight of him. Her teacher, a instructor in the art of war, had returned from battle. She had many before and many since none of them had resonated within her as he had, they had taught her strategy, tactics, operational techniques and more...and so had he but it had gone far beyond such base dressings of character. He had been the only one to ever look beneath the potential and ability, to gauge the person beneath the uniform, to test the character of her being. She was a Soldier of Zeon but underneath the uniform she was also a person, she had desires, hopes and thoughts, he had been the only one in her entire tenure at the academy to even bother trying to understand her.

To other cadets she was either a rival to be surpassed or a foreigner who went against the very mandate of their nation, after all she was not a native, despite her being born within the deep vastness of space, she did not hail originally from the furthest colony cluster in the solar system. Yes, she had been born beneath the Federation and its banner, her home on the moon orbiting Earth and yet she lived within the Federation's enemy, the rogue state of Zeon. No doubt to her own people she'd be a traitor. She didn't care, the Federation had ripped her existence apart at the seams, all she had left to her was her very life and her cause.

A cause to see the Federation pay, a cause to see all those who blindly followed that flag pay, she owed her parents that, she owed herself that. She owed her teacher that, even in the beginning he had been different, how did one go from merely being one of countless trainers, instructors and teachers to being someone of import to her? Something more then a comrade, something more then a fellow soldier in arms, how did one become precious to her? She had never had many friends, growing up in Von Braun had discouraged many of the other children to steer away from her, and that had persisted even into her adolescence. She grew used to the solitude, when she enlisted, there was no one to object to her, to try to persuade her otherwise. All she had was her cause, her belief in vengeance.

She focused her body, her mind to that purpose, she would become the instrument of justice for the dead. She cared little for the politics of her era, the Zabi's and their vanity and greed didn't interest her, nor did their burning desire for conquest. No she was loyal to nothing and no one save herself, she would fight for their banner, kill their enemies but that was where the relationship ended. Where her facade ended, she would honor the orders of her superiors, carry them out quickly and efficiently but the military was merely the most expedient path towards her own retribution-nothing more. It had not been until she had met him until she came to see that there was merit to ideologies, to dogma, to belief.

Though their time together had been short, she saw in him a devoted man, a principled man. Until him Zeon had been nothing more then another location, one that gave her access to the vengeance she desired, but nothing beyond that. With him it became a place she would protect, would honor, would serve. For the first time in a decade, she had a home, something to believe in, something to fight for. Before him she had been broken, a jagged and warped piece of steel, dangerous but not directed with intent, after him she had become a saber fashioned solely to be plunged into the heart of the Federation, he had given her purpose beyond base killing.

She would forever be grateful for that. Because of him, she had become a soldier, a defender, a protector. She would protect her homeland, even if it was not by birth it was her home now and forever. They were her people, now and forever, and she would fight for their behalf as well as herself. Now and forever, even if she did acknowledge that he had changed her nature to a degree, the wound the Federation had left upon her was not so easily erased, and thankfully no one would ever ask her to forgo it. She would avenge herself and her family from the crimes the Federation had committed against them.

She swore that pledge to herself as a girl of only five, and she would honor it.

That pledge after all had led her to him.

* * *

 **April 3rd, 0079**

 **Side 3, Zum City, Zeon Military Academy**

 **Observation Area, Hangar 4**

She first noticed his entrance into the test flight hangar as she was climbing out of her assigned training Zaku, wiping the sweat free of her brow and undoing the confining and tight mesh of the normal suit that clung to her frame. It was then that she saw him, merely observing, watching the surroundings, the recruits, the officers, and other assigned personal, he approached no one and no one came to him, from a distance she could hardly distinguish him from any of the other instructors, he bore no special distinction on his uniform save the ranking insignia. Yet even so there was something about him, like a caged tiger his eyes tracked movement with a mixture of curiosity and boredom.

Yet all the same there was a undeniable edge to him even from a dozen meters away she could sense it.

Clicking into the descent rope, she hit the release and the pulley began to whur with mechanic effort as it lowered her frame to the floor, her regulation cut black tresses still slick with sweat from being confined within her helmet for the better part of a day clung to her scalp, she felt self conscious at the thought of her appearance but buried it beneath the stern and steely demeanor expected of a soldier. She was hardly a dainty wallflower to begin with, she trained in combat, in the art of battle and the application of killing...she was not some painted concubine from her ancestral homeland.

Stepping on to the concrete of the floor, she pulled off the rope and gave her recording of her exercises to the tech on duty as she had been instructed, with the formalities of training out of the way her eyes once again returned to the man who continued to watch the proceedings of the hangar. Stepping forward she noted two things immediately the way by which he carried himself was radically different from when she had seen him mere months ago and secondly...his body still resounded with the trauma of battle. Scars had replaced the blank canvas of flesh from when she had last met him, his entire body seemed to radiate a crippling sense of pain and yet he did his best to not show it.

Something within her tore at itself at the mere sight of it, rage funneled outward at the mere notion of him being harmed by the Federation. Thoughts turned to black and crimson, one day they would pay for this, when she fought against them and bled them, made them know the true price for their arrogance they in their final moments would realize the gravity of her hatred. The consuming nature of it demanded such retribution, if not only for her teacher then also for herself. Steeling herself took every fiber of her willpower but she succeeded if only just as she approached him.

Now she was left unsure, how was she to approach this? Their relation was strictly that of teacher and student, despite her own attachment...if that was indeed the word, it was solely one sided. Formality would have to suffice she realized then. Charcoal black eyes regarded hazel for a moment before her small mouth curved slightly into a smile and she spoke-the familiar and soft tone he expected, the student returning to her teacher.

"It's good to have you back sir." That was true enough she supposed, she was grateful he had returned to his homeland alive when so many hadn't. In the aftermath of Loum the war became far too chaotic to monitor with any degree of certainty with reports of losses and lists of names being broadcasted seemingly ever hour in the fallout of that battle. She lost track of how many hours she spent staring at monitors and screens hoping, praying she would not see his name among the dead. Yet eventually she became numb to that possibility, it wasn't until the tail end of January and the raid on Side One did she again witness his name within the headlines.

The survivor, the man who escaped death while it claimed everyone and everything around him.

Her teacher it seemed also recognized his sheer luck, his reply however indicated that the man beneath the uniform was simply tired, worn down from the constant fighting and struggle merely to continue existing.

"I'm not on active duty at the moment kid. You can just call me Dieter." He existed in a world separate from her own, one should could only catch fleeting glimpses of upon occasion. Yet it seemed he at the very least understood the realm in which she now dwelled, he now too inflicted by the Federation, both those of the flesh and those that lay deeper. Yet she couldn't honor her teacher's request, to her he would simply always be the defining figure of what she could only lament she could never be. He embraced war, hatred, by choice while she was forced to wallow it as it consumed everything that had been her prior life.

He would always be her instructor, the lieutenant that had strolled into the Academy that day upon assignment and spoke to her of duty, devotion and belief. Belief in that causes could be worth what was sacrificed to achieve them, that liberation could come to those who fought for it. While he had spoken of the base ideals of the physical world she had applied the mantra deeper, he spoke of combating the Federation, of Zeon assuming its proper place in history. To her it was something beyond that, it was her only means of silencing the ghosts that tormented her, the memories that could never leave her, the thing that grounded her rage into place and confined her within it.

Thus he was also confined, to the role of mentor, teacher, instructor, he would regardless of ranking, of official position or even the passage of time be the one who opened her eyes to such a thing. He would remain the man who showed her the path to salvation through blood.

Yet she couldn't phrase it such a way, Lieutenant Kries was a man of duty, principle and discipline. He would understand if she told him, but he would also likely fail to grasp the underlining impact of what he himself had done. Thus it would be kept from him, to ensure that what he believed her to be, the illusion of what she was, who she pretended to be. The aspiring Cadet, the prodigal foreigner, his student...he would be allowed to maintain that fiction, for it was fiction even if what he saw within her bled into the reality of her person.

The solution however was simple, protocol, chain of command, discipline, these things he understood far greater then her pain, her loss and her driving motivation, her reason for continuing to draw breath. Thus she would act in regard of that.

"You are a superior officer...sir." It was simple, the words flowed from her lips just as he expected, his reaction just as predicted was understanding and just as before they conversed as two people, regardless of station or past. They were two soldiers, nothing more, nothing less.

"I suppose so, though I doubt I will be seeing combat again any time soon so my rank will probably mean little." She didn't respond to that, in truth because it left herself confused with what she felt at the proclamation. Was she relived him unlike all those thousands who had fought at his side in the hectic first month of the Zeon War of Independence that had returned back to the homeland of Side Three alive? Or was the fact that he sounded unhappy with being stationed back at the homeland while the war raged on, confusing her. Did he miss the thrill of combat? The blood and violence of it? Was he simply being patriotic?

What drove a man like him to fight? He fascinated her, he seemed so unlike her and yet so familiar at the same time. He was what she dreamed of being, before she simply wished legal authorization to kill those underneath the Federation's banner. After him she saw the distinction between killer and soldier, between those who took life simply to take it and those who did so for purpose. She was unsure if she could be a adherent to such belief, and dogma but none the less she saw the appeal.

Silence hung in the air as both were caught up in their own relative states of introspection until he decided enough was enough and asked her a question she knew was coming. What she knew of what had happened on his last mission, the mission that resulted in him being a high decorated special operations pilot, to being nearly killed in action and sent back from the front to the homeland for emergency medical leave.

It was he however who surprisingly broke the silence.

"You heard what happened at Side One I guess?" She had, only through secondhand sources and through whispered rumors, but she had heard. The unit within the Mobile Attack Group he had been stationed within had been deployed, the mission had gone array, little more then that she ever learned and yet it told her enough. He returned to Side Three, to Zeon while the rest of his fellows did not. She would not elaborate on how she learned, but she would be truthful at least to a degree.

She would always be truthful to her instructor.

"Only a little, most of it was classified. It didn't even make the news." If he had questions of how she had even learned of the event when it had never been spoken of by official sources, he never asked them he merely gave her a tired smile and a small nod of the head in reply.

"That makes sense." His response seemed to carry with it the weight of loss, of pain and suffering, it was familiar, it was heart wrenching, it was something she'd never wish upon him yet even so some part of her rejoiced at the sight. He had become more like her, had stepped further into her own world. It was then however that she noticed something that had not been present upon his person the last time they had met, the recent addition being sigil that adorned his left arm down near the hand past the elbow. Two simple lines descending downward from the emblem of Zeon.

Its meaning escaped her so she would inquire, if nothing else it would sate the gnawing curiosity within her of this man.

"What's that?" Phrased so innocently, so simply and yet the questions that lay beneath the question would be answered all the same by his response. She would in turn learn more of him, of what he had become in their time since he had gone to war. She would learn more of the person he was becoming, more of the man he was to be once this war finally concluded...if he survived it.

"Oh that?" His response was casual and yet gloved fingers tightened upon his wrest as he rolled up his regulation length sleeves on the BDU and revealed the entirety of the symbol.

"It's my... _former_ unit emblem I guess, we all got them after Loum." He gestured to the garish brand, truth be told she had never even heard of the practice of actually tattooing unit insignia's upon their member's flesh but she supposed it made sense. _'If you are going to wear it on your uniform, on your mobile suit...why not your flesh as well?'_ Yet even so all that tattoo was now, was a reminder of the dead. She bore no markings of her own loss save those the Federation had given her on her very flesh, she needed no reminder of what was lost, what had been taken from her. Even if the mental trauma ever faded...the scars on her back never would.

Scars of those lost to them, just like the wreckage that decorated Side Five in that titanic battle where Zeon had once again faced down the Federation. Broken bodies and steel clouded that graveyard, a eternal reminder of the ultimate cost of war, of the loss that it could inflict.

Loum, she had heard of the clash at Side Five it had been heralded as a decisive Zeon victory, hundreds of Federation ships had been sunk, tens of thousands of of their soldiers killed...and the entire colony cluster at Side Five had been obliterated. It didn't surprise that such a capable pilot would have been selected to partake in that operation, undoubtedly the Lieutenant had done his nation proud that day and sunk many Federal vessels. Yet for all the import the Zeo Net had hoisted upon the victory, despite the revelation of the capture of General Revil-the Commander of all Federation Forces in space...the war did not end.

Revil escaped, the Antarctic Treaty was signed and the war continued onward like clockwork. She knew her superior had to be reeling from such a turn of events, but she couldn't help but be glad to a degree. The war would not end with her never taking part, all the training, struggle and preparation for her own entry into it would not go to waste, in perhaps a year or so her own tenure at the Academy would end and she would enter into the ranks of the Zeon Military and she would face down her mortal foe. Yet even so she couldn't help but feel some amount of empathy for Kries, after all he fought to bring liberation to space, to instill the superiority of his flag over others, he didn't share her own desire to just kill as many of the Federation as possible.

Her dream was still well within her grasp, Dieter's dream of Zeon emerging victorious in this war however was left up to the whims of history.

"The war rages out there and here we are just talking, the Federation still continues to kill our people every single day, and now with the invasion of Earth..." The Second Descent Operation back in March had been the talk of Zeon for weeks, mass orbital strikes and bombardment had left much of the Federation's anti air capabilities in ruins and with that success came the invasion. Under the command of Captain Garma Zabi they had secured vast swathes of territory across the planet, Garma was heralded as the darling of the hour for his victories. Yet even so the war continued onward, it seemed no matter their success their enemy was simply implacable and would never relent. While she yearned to bloody herself in the vigor of true battle, she knew that this war could not be allowed to continue forever.

Zeon simply didn't have the resources to maintain this level of offensive for that long, how many sons and daughters went down to that planet only to return to their homeland in a casket? Such pain was not unfamiliar to her, yet more suffering brought up by the arrogance and brutality of the Federation. _'Yet more people who will mourn because of their ineptitude and greed.'_ Perhaps he sensed her misgivings, perhaps her demeanor gave away her thoughts, none the less when he replied it was in that familiar kind stoic tone she had come to associate with her teacher. Regardless of what he himself may have thought of the current situation, he would offer her a smile and speak as if there was nothing to be concerned with.

She found herself actually wanting to believe in such comfort.

Black met hazel and he gave her a small nod of reassurance before he spoke.

"It will be alright Cadet, we have established strongholds across the planet, and most of its under our direct control with only scattered pockets of Federal forces offering resistance. We just need to rally enough military power and launch a assault on their general headquarters and the war that began in space will end on Earth." He sounded as if he believed it, perhaps she could as well, truth be told she was surprised that the Federation hadn't relented once the seat of its power, the very planet from which humanity had spawned all those eons ago had come under siege. _'Would they rather see Earth reduced to a lifeless wreck then submit? To give the colonies their freedom?'_ Did their greed truly stretch that far? How many lives would they sacrifice to maintain control of their _investments_?

However to at least maintain some semblance of a proper conversation she offered a continuation which he thankfully took.

"I heard Captain Garma is leading the Zeon forces down on Earth." It was direct, to the point and well within the bounds of common knowledge, even for civilians. Captain Garma had been dispatched to lead the entire invasion back in March to the fanfare and adulation of Zeon, the youngest, most popular son of Degwin Zabi riding off to war to claim the glory he so desperately sought to justify his existence to his people. Even she, so immersed in her own objective of vengeance could see the desperation that pushed the youngest Zabi, she knew that events would either forge him into a great man...or would utterly destroy him depending upon how things played out.

"Yeah, that's what I heard too." His reply wasn't unusual, no doubt since returning to Side Three he had lost track of the current events of the war, besides those that were actively covered by the new services. It wasn't such a odd proposition, no doubt that was why he had returned to the Academy to resume teaching novice pilots, he was no longer deemed to be a viable combat pilot. With the extensive injuries he had suffered at Side One, she couldn't say that she didn't understand that reasoning. Even without going into the likely deep seated trauma that plagued him internally his physical appearance gave hints at what he had suffered, his face had been all but shredded when his helmet had shattered from the intense heat. Beam weaponry? A possibility she supposed , his once nondescript if attractive face now had the thin lines of impact trauma and fragmentation pelting it.

Without another word he began the trek to the nearby office where training missions and routine maintenance on mobile suits was recorded and observed, with the drills already concluded for the day it was empty. Seemingly without care he seated himself in one of the small spiral rolling chairs and merely turned his head her in direction in a unasked question. She gave no reply save moving to the nearest chair and sitting down into it. Yet this proximity merely revealed that what he had endured on the battlefield to her all the clearer. All the scars and minute details that the hangar proper had been too dark to witness such things became piercingly obviously in the bright light of the office.

He was likely lucky to still possess his eyes, beneath those obvious indicators was the off coloration of much of his skin pigmentation, it was clearly he was still under the effects of antibiotics to battle infection that had likely festered within those wounds even in the vacuum of space. Still apart from some rough coloring and the scars she couldn't detect any other injuries that might plague him beyond his difficulty with holding things with the same hand for prolonged periods of time, he had swapped the hand that was holding his cigarette twice now. He never used to do such a thing, perhaps he had some residual numbness that had been imparted him his limbs due to atrophy of muscles or damage to specific tissues.

 _'He came back injured, but alive, I should be grateful.'_ She dug into her own green tunic to withdraw already opened packet of cigarettes before sliding one of the little cancer sticks into her own awaiting hand. After all how many other pilots had perished back in January at Side One, Two, Four, or Five? How many died during British? Much of the generation of Dieter's own days at the Academy had perished in that fierce and bloody fighting, and yet he had returned. The Federation had tried to take him, to end his existence just as they had with all the others and had come close, but failed. Sticking the cigarette into the side of her mouth, before digging into the pockets for a lighter her eyes caught him staring at her blankly.

Silence hung in the air for a single second before he replied. His hand outstretching with that familiar old lighter of his offered, his fingers working the flint and producing a flame from which she lit her own cigarette she gave him a small smile of thanks.

"You started smoking." From the way he phrased it, it was not a question so she merely gave a small nod of the head as he withdrew the lighter before it disappeared once again into his own uniform.

"That shit will kill you." He offered as he exhaled on his own cigarette smoke trailing from angular nostrils.

"You do it." He eyed her for a moment at that statement but in the end only let out a short chuckle, one of the few bits of mirth she had seen come out of him since his return. His laughter, even if it only lasted for a few brief seconds, never the less brought her comfort. Inhaling deeply on her own cigarette, she nearly missed the words he offered her in the near silence of the hangar office mere seconds later.

"Yeah. Yeah I do."

* * *

 **July 18th, 0079**

 **Side 3, Zum City, Residential District, Block 78**

 **Deikun Memorial Plaza**

The rolling plaza was oddly quiet today, normally numerous students, cadets and children would be about the area singing, and playing. Blanketing the area in the sounds of their enjoyment and revery, yet today apart from a few who stood in reverence of the towering statue of Degwin Zabi and Zeon Zum Deikun, they were alone. The winding marble staircase that led upward to the momentum proper lay unused, unstained by the touch of boots this day. This symbol of Zeon history, was forgotten in favor of the war-like much every thing else.

It was all many could talk or think about seemingly, the progress of it, the events and battles that took place as it raged onward towards its uncertain conclusion. She cared not for the overall state of it, only that it would not end with her never having fought, the years of training, discipline and preparation would not be wasted. She would have the Federation bleed for her, just as she had bled for them all those years before. They stood beneath the massive monument to Zeon pride and freedom, the two revered figures of Zeon's early independence movement and founders of what would eventually become the Principality of Zeon.

Gazing upward at these revered figure she felt something within herself, was in this what her teacher believed? In the leadership, guidance and dogma of the Zabi monarchy? Did their rule compel his loyalty? She saw something within Zeon, something that made it feel as it if it could be a homeland she could be proud of and yet within herself she knew that if not from a cruel stroke of fate...she'd have never seen beyond its outer walls lined with warships and soldiers. Even as a child she had not been blind to the obvious issues of the Federation and Zeon's strained relations, the news prior to the death of Deikun had hardly been the most encouraging with the Zeon philosopher pushing heavily for independence from the Federation and it seemed imminent that Side Three would secede from the control of Earth.

"You told me once that your family came to Side Three from Europe?"He had told her of himself but only briefly it had been a single topic that was rapidly shifted in favor of discussing all matters military. It seemed as if Dieter the man ended where the uniform began, she didn't know if she found such a prospect inspiring or tragic. Either way however, whom was she to judge? Some little girl who had never gotten over the injustice done to her as a toddler? Someone so consumed with revenge that they let it literally dictate every facet of her life?

No, she was the last person who could judge her teacher.

"Yes, a Federal province in the European continent known as Germany or so I was told anyway. It was a long time before I was born, my father and mother were born here after all. My grandfather lived there until the Federation began to eject the populace into space to make _room_." So he unlike her held no attachment to the Earth as it stood, to him it was just some distant territory under the command of the Federation, there was nothing there for him. No attachment, no reverence, no appreciation, the Federation had stripped all value for the birthplace of humanity from it for him.

Was such a thing pitiable or enviable? She desired to see the land of her mother, she revered the figure she could hardly even recall now, she had taken her surname over that of father after...after the inevitable cruelty that to the Federation imposed upon the people of space took its course. Yet Dieter for his own lineage held no respect, he paid it no heed, he simply didn't care. Side Three was where he was born, and as far as he was concerned it was the only singular nation in existence to truly matter. His view of civilization was narrow, but at the same time she could see the appeal, the Federation was simply some faceless government to him, it did not hold a precious homeland captive, it did not encompass his people.

She yearned to be apart of something, something that made her part of something bigger then herself, greater then herself, stronger then herself. Something that would not crumble away from her when she needed it most, something that would outlive her, that would be her legacy. Was that why she sought the military life? For a long time she did not know the answer, it was a recommended path for her in the state funded housing within Side Three, she was physically fit enough and mentally sound enough to enlist. Yet if that was her desire within Zeon it was foiled, those within the Academy where no better then those outside it, even within those halls she was the foreigner, a stranger amid a people who despised nonconformity. Until him of course, she knew not why he looked at her in a differing light, she had heard him speak of those who lived beneath the Federation's banner.

She had felt the heat of his hatred, it was true, it bore striking resemblance to her own and yet did he not consider her such filth? She had never resented those of Zeon who held hatred in their hearts for the Federation, indeed she understood it only too well and could merely offer herself to such scorn and dismissal. Yet with her teacher to him she was simply yet another Zeon, he knew nothing of her save her service record, save what was told to him to do the job of instructing her to be a pilot. He had no reason to hide his vitriol, she had expected it, had expected to learn from this man and nothing more and yet, more came.

That was when she took true note of what he spoke of, to him Zeon was some sort of utopia, a land in which every member of society moved forward in a singular direction towards glory. That even the faults and failings of his state, his people merely inspired those who failed to do better, to rise above the failings, to ensure perfection. He fought for a dream that was built upon belief, he was willing to kill for it, to die for it. Within that split second of realization she had felt the twistings of fate, they were to be intertwined. She would follow this man, kill for this man, believe for this man, would offer him the pittance of her own being wholly and sincerely.

He merely stared at her in that moment and to break from her own internal musings and offer something back in return for his own information she gave forth her own.

"My family came from a small Island nation in the Pacific region of Earth known as Japan, some place called _Hokkaido_ , my mother came from there at the very least. She told me it was a land of immense beauty with its beaches and dense vegetation, even as a child she told me of its perfection unmarred by the touch of man. That was of course before she came to Space, to my father and the Moon but...I suppose that is where my ancestry hails from." That was all she knew of her past, of the faint recollections of stories, pictures and a country she had never seen, of a people she had never bore witness to, of a planet she had never stepped foot upon.

* * *

 **October 5th, 0079**

 **Side 3, Zum City, Zeon Military Academy**

 **Recruit Dormitories, Assigned Quarters to Yuuka Ashaina**

The mood was somber and reflective within her quaint quarters, she had heard the news, everyone had. Even with the civil news networks under the command of the state, leaks had formed and resulted in even this classified event becoming public knowledge seemingly overnight. She had no attachment to the young Zabi, she had never even met the man but she knew that the event would propel events down the path they were fated to take, history was moving once again.

Captain Garma was dead, yet another victim of the Federation and their military. The war that had seemingly entered a never ending stalemate across the solar system was once again raging in all earnestness. The youngest, most popular Zabi, the darling of Zeon had fallen in battle. She knew not where, nor how but she did know what the result would be. Zeon would begin to refocus efforts, it would be sending forces to Earth to hold the planet, the Federation would no doubt use the disruption in the wake of Garma's death to strike as fierce a blow as they could in the absence of a overall commander of Zeon forces at that front.

She was shrouded in darkness even as the artificial sunlight burrowed in through the thin standard issue dappery that adorned the single window of her domicile, she made no effort to turn on the lights, just as she had not when she had first entered the room nearly thirty minutes before. She had finished her scheduled training for today and now had the remaining time to herself, she could be studying technical manuals, battlefield excerpts, she could be bettering herself but in the wake of this event she could focus on nothing of the sort. In the wake of this loss all that she cared about was going to be undone, she could feel it.

He would be sent away, back to those distant battlefields of the Sides or Earth, it was a small miracle she supposed that it hadn't occurred already. He was a veteran after all, a soldier that unlike her or her follows that had faced down the Federation time and again, and accomplished unbelievable things. At Loum alone he had distinguished himself before a Admiral , had been awarded his own unique color scheme for his mobile suit putting him in the same as such legends as the _Red Comet_ or _Blue Giant_. She still remembered the feeling that had echoed through her frame after witnesses the news footage of Loum in which his sleek Black Zaku had preformed maneuvers with such crisp precision and control that it had left her breathless, he may have not pushed his suit to the breaking point to achieve unheard of speed like Captain Aznable but he made up for it with controlling that suit as if it was a limb of his very body.

He seemingly danced around exploding shells and projectiles at every turn, his own return fire measured and even. His showing in that battle had not been as impressive as Char's sinking of five separate Magellan warships but he had destroyed eight Salamis cruisers in rapid succession during the battle, she had gone over the brief descriptions within the news time and again, he was heralded as some of a national hero, alongside all the other legends that were born that day. Where had the press been when he had been fighting at Side One? Had he not sunk ships there as well? Yet nothing was ever reported of it to his people, Dieter fought for Zeon, for Spacenoid freedom and pride. Yet his nation seemingly did not return the affection, he was only honored when the largest battle to date in the war broke out in Side Five and all of Zeon witnessed his skill.

He was overshadowed even then though by those who seemingly were yet more skilled. Her instructor's legacy was a legacy of proven ability, valor and skill at a time of war and yet she did not wish for him to return to the war. She did not want him to go back to fighting the Federation, she knew she was disrespecting his own resolve by having such thoughts, and yet she couldn't stop herself. This war had consumed billions of lives already, he would be yet another single person lost in the greatest conflict in the history of their species even so though, she did not wish him to die. The Federation had to be destroyed, but hadn't he already given his homeland enough?

Why would he return to the battlefield? He had told her of his own past, there had been nothing in his background that indicated he owed anything personal to the Federation, he was not driven to the brink of madness by thoughts of wrath and revenge like herself. Yet he still flung himself into the flames of war and emerged scarred and weary but alive, and no doubt if asked he would do it again and again and again. Did such tenacity all stem from his duty? Was that were his resolve was fostered?

The rap on the thin metal of the outer door knocked the distraction from her thought as she instantly rose from the creased and thin sheets of her assigned bunk and made her way to the door. _'Who could it be?'_ Afternoon classes were over, she didn't have any assigned duties until the next morning, so she was admittedly confused at the sudden appearance of someone at her domicile door. It wouldn't be her fellow Cadets, they paid her no more heed then they had to do during joint exercises and drills, she was a foreigner, a soul weighed down by the crushing gravity of the Federation. In turn she socialized and interacted with them as little as possible, she had no grievances with them, but also no connections. Pulling the door open she let the light from the hall flood into the darkened chamber, at the door was the last person she had expected.

 _Him_.

Instantly raising her hand to brow in salute she stood at attention, whatever his reason for coming, he was her superior.

"Cadet, may I enter?" He questioned as he stood there seemingly uncertain how to proceed. His normally stoic and reserved demeanor seemingly fractured at present with indecision and doubt.

"Of course sir." She invited him in as she stood aside, he entered sluggishly, in the dim light cast from the hall in the room she noted he was wearing his standard issue BDU, the fatigues that marked him as a instructor at the Academy, of course adorned along it were combat decorations and service ribbons but overall, nothing within his uniform gave the impression that he had been recalled to active service. Had she been wrong? Had her assumptions that he would be called away again to fight been incorrect?

She would honor whatever God she had to appease them for that small miracle it turned out to be true.

The light was flipped on revealing her orderly and well maintained quarters, unlike most however the only personal articles within the room were her own issued clothing and uniforms, personal products from grooming and maintaining the orderly and disciplined fashion in which Zeon Cadets were supposed to conduct themselves. No photos of loved ones, no hints at past or personality, even the books that were aligned across the desk all solely focused around her interest in becoming a soldier. She had no time for the past, she could do nothing for the dead save give them company in the afterlife.

Once the door was sealed behind them however her superior's demeanor shifted slightly as he let out a held breath and gave her a small genuine if sad smile. His scarred face contorting, forcing the the lines were metal and glass ripped into flesh to twist and squirm along his face. "You heard about what happened on Earth?" His voice was soft and even but even from this distance she could feel the heat radiating off his words, the fact that the Federation had killed a Zabi apparently did not sit well with him, nor could she blame him truly for that. Garma had been popular within the military just as his older brother was, he was the destined next generation, the future for their nation.

Now he was dead.

"Yes." She answered quietly her tone subdued and lacking the normal reserve she had in respect for her superior, her teacher, no doubt she wasn't supposed to have, but everyone at the Academy was gossiping about the loss of such a beloved figure, even just hours after the event had occurred it had become the hottest news to grace Side Three since the Battle of Loum or the Antarctic Treaty. He seemed unsurprised and gave a gruff nod of the head, his freshly shaven face still bore some of the reddish irritation of a rush job to get rid of any unwanted signs of inaction or failure to follow military regulation on personal grooming.

"Tomorrow there is going to be a state funeral for the late Garma Zabi...I am being requested to attend and then I am getting pulled off the Academy staff." Her eyes widened in shock, her mouth opened and she began to formulate what she should say here, what she could say here...At the mere presumption of her interrupting him he merely raised his hand and continued, asking her silence until he finished. "The Earth Attack Force is in need of experienced personal and I will likely be transferred to the front." He concluded his explanation with a slight shrug before running a hand through his thin brown hair before revealing his left shoulder's ranking insignia. Gone was the sigil of the Lieutenant and in its place was a full Lieutenant Commander's Badge.

"I got it this morning, I was told what was going to happen and I agreed." What she had feared above all had come to pass, the sole person that had somehow wormed his way into her life, seemingly unknowingly at that...was going to off to war yet again and like last time she would be left behind. Her own training wouldn't be completed for nearly another year at quickest and who knew if this war would even still be ongoing by then, this conflict would be her best chance at exacting at the very least some measure of vengeance and yet...it was passing her by. Month by month she trained and readied herself for it, fought mock battles and completed drills, learned what it was to be a soldier but here-here was a man who had fought against her enemy in her stead and was being called upon to do so again.

Was she truly afraid for him or merely jealous at the prospect of facing the Federation? Where did retribution and hope for more within life itself intersect and end? Where did the chains that bound both of them in place truly lie? He who willingly followed the commands of his nation, fought against the figures of her nightmares and trauma, and she who was cast into that hell before she could even truly experience anything other then it. Where did sentiment and wish to protect end and desire for revenge begin?

She herself didn't know, knew she likely never would and yet even so some small part of her. Something locked away, buried beneath the bodies of her past life, crushed into a fine dust by the wrath of a uncaring and corrupt government hoped she would. Desired it even more then seeking death in retribution for the dead, yet even so she knew she could never abandon her purpose, her cause. Dieter Kries fought for country, ideals and belief, she fought simply because it was all that was left to her to exist. If she ignored what was done to her, if she tried to live in blissful illusion that the injury done to her had never occurred, it would be as if she was already dead like everything and everyone she had ever loved or cared about.

Still the impact left by the actions of that one soldier shaped her, molded her into something she did not regret becoming. She would still be the arbiter of damnation for all those beneath the flag of the Federation until her dying breath yet...it was not all she hoped to be. Could the roles of soldier and avenger interlock into singular purpose?

That she knew she would find out.

* * *

 **AN: Well if you paid attention you learned somethings about what will eventually occur in the closing days of January and the conclusion of Soldier of Zeon but as I said its mostly kept deliberately vague save perhaps on a few crucial details which may admittedly lessen the impact of a few scenes. You also learn of things yet to occur in the primary narrative such as Dieter's customized Zaku color and etc. Yet overall as I said initially this fic is primarily focused around a single character from the overlapping story her own thoughts, motivations and history. I wanted the ground work laid for such a character if I eventually decide to expand upon my own planned narrative, as it stands I have a few more one shots planned and not much else on the horizon for my UC Gundam fanfiction.**

 **Yet at the same time this opens doors if there ever is going to be a proper sequel, you learn of characters that will undoubtedly be featured quite heavily, Yuuka isn't going anywhere in my planned fiction for a long while although I have already thought of where her sad little story will end up going. Speaking of her history, I also kept that somewhat vague but any amount of perception can tell you the basics about the character, about what her feelings on Zeon, the Federation, Dieter himself and etc are. Well perhaps save on the last one, because that one is ultimately the most complex thing about the character, her _feelings_ for her teacher and mentor figure.**

 **Anyway I do hope you enjoy this little side fic and please remember to favorite, follow and review.**

 **The next time you see me it will be for another chapter in Soldier of Zeon**

 **Till then**

 **-Reborn Akatsuki**


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